


At The End Of The Week

by wonyoongs



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: DSMP, Dream Smp, Imprisonment, Manipulation, Pandora's Box, Prison, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Warden Awesamdude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29626830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonyoongs/pseuds/wonyoongs
Summary: It's been a week since Tommy became trapped in the prison with Dream. Sam has finally come to let him out.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	At The End Of The Week

**Author's Note:**

> i did a thing. after today's stream, it was a must. hope you all enjoy

It was finished.

He repaired the whole of the prison, found any last hidden TNT blocks and destroyed them without anymore explosions. His whole body was exhausted. He had barely slept more than a handful of hours the whole week. Each step was an effort to keep from falling over. He had even forgotten his mask at some point in time, but had no energy to care about it. And despite the week of hard work to keep the prison secure, Sam still hadn’t figured out who the culprit was.

He had a strong inclination though.

The ringing in his ears wasn’t something he was keen on now either, especially as it grew louder the closer he got to Dream’s cell where his prized prisoner, and the unfortunate luck of a boy, Tommy.

A week.

A week of Tommy being stuck inside the prison with Dream.

Sam let out a long breath, but it wasn’t enough to ease the tension in his body.

The lava popped beneath him as the moving platform jolted him further and further to Dream’s cell. With the lava down, the whole room was covered in shadows despite the shining of the crying obsidian and the glowstone. Everything seemed dimmer, duller. A shiver ran down his spine, but Sam kept his chin up as he stepped off the platform and beheld the cell in front of him.

Being on this side of the lava, physically in Dream’s cell, there was no way to raise the lava behind him without another set of hands on the other side. Sam had wanted to do this alone, despite Bad and Ant volunteering to help. His trust in them only went so far before he had to fall on his own instincts.

And right now, they were being bombarded with so many other things.

Besides the lack of light on the cell, the second thing Sam noticed was the quiet. The lava still gurgled behind him, but he expected more noise at his entrance. He expected Tommy to be tripping over his feet, to get out, cursing Sam and Dream and the universe all the while. He was waiting for it, for each scathing blow after blow of words from the young man. It was coming, any second now.

But then Sam blinked into the dim and the two lumps on the ground came into focus.

One of the bodies was hunched and wrapped around itself, shaking and shivering, cracked fingernails itching aimlessly at his torn pair of jeans. A sniffle echoed off the walls, being answered by a low groan throughout the prison. Sam grew used to the sounds of the prison, it became as much apart of him as his own soul. But the boy on the ground shuddered violently as a hand descended gently to his head.

Sam lifted his eyes to the other body on the ground. This one sat with his legs folded beneath him, an arm around the middle of the boy while the other stroked the boy’s hair. Dream’s face was impassive as his eyes lingered on the body half in his lap. Some emotion moved through Sam’s body but it was gone too quick for him to grasp and name it.

Some part beneath the growing roar in Sam’s ears told him to feel bad, to be raging and roaring at the man in green. A whisper from the walls around him, that familiar lull and it was gone.

He swallowed thickly.

“It’s fixed,” he voiced, his words like a sword slicing through the air. Dream paused in his stroking, his fingers tangled into blond curls. He resumed again with a tilt of his head as if he could hear things Sam couldn’t. He was sure the other man couldn’t hear the whispering of the prison, the calm it sent through Sam’s veins. At least, he hoped the prisoner couldn’t.

Dream hummed, “Good.” His head stayed down, but his eyes slowly lifted to look at Sam. Green seemed to glow throughout the room as the barest of smiles graced Dream’s lips. Sam narrowed his eyes at the other, but Dream had already looked back down at Tommy.

At the broken boy in his arms.

It was only a week, seven days. But it must have felt like months to Tommy.

Months of being stuck in the same space with his worst enemy.

That feeling of remorse was climbing again inside of Sam.

“Is he okay?” He could hear how quiet his voice became, how gentle. He watched as Dream’s fingers shifted from the top of Tommy’s head to his chin, tilting the boy’s face up. Sam could see the dried tear streaks down his cheeks, the puffiness of his eyes which instead of their usual bright blue, were the dullest of grays.

Sam clenched his jaw as he stared at the young man. What the hell happened here? What did Dream do to him?

Dream was quiet for a moment, long enough to hear a mumble leave Tommy’s mouth. Sam didn’t have to strain to hear what was said.

“They left me, Dream.”

Dream cooed, fingers going back to stroke through Tommy’s hair. He gave Tommy a small smile as the boy looked up at him. “I’m still here,” he whispered.

Dream gave one last look at the boy in his arms before looking back up at Sam. “He is now,” he said in answer to Sam’s question.

The warden took a step forward, rage flooding fast through his veins, pushing past the wall the prison held up for him. They grew together, the prison and him. It warded his emotions just as it warded enemies against tearing the walls down. It made him void and empty, or ‘boring’ as Tommy said before he was stuck here with a psychopath.

He did it all for a reason. He blocked off his emotions while in the prison for a reason. Because said psychopath fed off of emotions. He knew where one became weak because of them, and he knew just how to strike.

But now, Sam’s anger was far stronger than the life of the prison. Those wards weren’t enough to protect him against his own emotions this time. So they became a flood inside him as he took another step forward, his sword grew suddenly heavier against his back as everything became visible on his face.

He didn’t realize what was happening until too late.

It didn’t click until a flash of green and Dream was suddenly in front of him, hand fisted into his shirt beneath his armor, his sword slicing through the air from its sheath and dangling at Dream’s side.

Sam tried to brace himself, but Dream had the upper hand here as he backed them up to the edge of the cell. Despite the handful of inches in height difference between them, Dream had pent up emotions on his side. He took Sam’s break in focus to pounce, and he did it with everything he had.

A hand slid against the obsidian floor behind them, but all Sam could see were the green of Dream’s eyes and the ragged scar running down the side of his face. He could understand why the man had worn a mask, the scarring underneath a tell enough. Sam remembered first seeing Dream’s face after Tommy made him take the mask off and dump it into the pit with the rest of this things. He remembered that buried feeling of being frightened of this man. Of finding him even more dangerous and threatening without the mask. The scars matched with the hardness of his eyes in that moment was enough.

It was that face that looked back at him now. It was that face that made his heart jackhammer in his chest.

Tommy mumbled from behind them, but this time Sam couldn’t hear the boy, but it seemed Dream did as he turned his head to look over his shoulder. When he looked back, he pushed harder against Sam’s chest, making the man grasp onto Dream’s wrist tightly so as not to get dropped into the lava below.

“Here’s what is going to happen, warden. You’re going to let me out––”

“Like hell I am,” Sam ground out before Dream continued.

“You are. You are going to escort me out of this prison right now. Or I will kill him. And then you. And while Tommy won’t come back, you will. And I will kill you again and again, until you run out of lives and are dead.” Tommy whimpered from behind them. “You are going to escort me out of this prison so I can fulfill a promise I made.”

Sam took a moment to survey Dream a little more, before he was able to shift his head and look at Tommy behind them. He was a shell of the man he was when he walked into the prison just a week ago. He was worse than he was in exile. He was skin and bones and rags. Dream, who has been in this prison for months longer than Tommy, looked better than the boy. But the way he looked up at Dream, the wide eyes and shallow breaths, Sam turned to growl at Dream.

The man just chuckled.

“And what promise did you make?”

“Hm? Ah, to Tommy, I promised to hunt down everyone who left him. Everyone who doesn’t care about him.”

“What. Are you insane?”

Dream smiled, that smile that haunted everyone’s nightmares. “Maybe. But only because I care about Tommy. I’m all he has.”

Dream took a step back, pulling Sam with him but still kept a firm hold on the warden’s shirt, sword still in his other hand.

“Let me out.”

“Dream?” The voice was hollow and distant and cracked and burned and torn. But it was still Tommy as he pushed himself into an upright position.

Dream didn’t move. “Let me out, Sam. Or things are going to get messy.”

“I can’t just let you go,” Sam whispered. He felt the sense of defeat start to descend on his shoulders. After all his hard work to keep the prison secure, it was being torn apart from the inside just by Dream’s sheer will.

“You can. You’re the warden. You will let me go. If you want, I’ll come right back after I’m done. All I want is to rid this server of the people who claim to be Tommy’s friends, but have hurt him by their selfishness. Despite everything, I have proven to be at Tommy’s side through everything. And I will continue to do so. I’ll come back, because I also made a promise to you to stay and be good––”

“For fuck’s sake––”

“Fine! I promise to come back and be good from now on. But I need to do this. For Tommy. And when I’m done, I won’t ever ask to leave again. I’ll stay here forever.”

Sam was silent as he stared at Dream. He hadn’t even noticed his hold had loosened until his hand was back at his side. He looked down at his rumpled shirt and back up at Dream. “Forever?”

He nodded. “Forever.”

“Dream?”

Dream turned his eyes on Tommy, that lack of emotion still present, even when watching the one he just promised his freedom for. Was Dream really willing to give up the rest of his life for this one shot at getting back at everyone who wronged Tommy? Did Dream change enough to put Tommy before himself? Was Sam even entertaining this insane idea? He couldn’t answer that last question, couldn’t let himself get too far into this.

He was just so exhausted.

Dream still stared at Tommy as he said. “You let me out. But you keep Tommy here.”

“What?” Tommy’s squeak blended in with my hiss. Tommy tried to scramble to his feet but was swaying too much. Dream looked back at Sam.

“Tommy has to stay here until I’m done.”

Tommy’s voice blended into the background as a new whispering began in Sam’s head when Dream smiled at him.

Dream lifted the sword casually. The headache increased in Sam’s skull. Tommy’s words turned into hoarse shouts.

“So what do you say, Sam. Want to make a deal?”


End file.
